


4th of July

by Hunter Rec (justaddwaterwitch)



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Fourth of July, Other, Steve centric, Stucky if you squint, like barely mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:10:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4267953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justaddwaterwitch/pseuds/Hunter%20Rec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steven Grant Rogers hates the Fourth of July with everything he has. Especially since he came to the 21st century.</p>
            </blockquote>





	4th of July

**Author's Note:**

> This was deeply inspired by my own hate for this holiday and the tumblr post that talks about fireworks keeping the spirits of the founding fathers away.

Steve groaned before rolling to the side of the bed. The sheets tangled around his legs, hindering movement. They felt worse than any chains the man had ever been caught in. Bucky mumbles at the sudden vitality of his bedmate. With a soft, lethargic wave of his hand, he dismissed Steve with a “Go back to bed”  
Removing himself from the sheets, Steve came to full life. The scent of sulfur already heavy in the air, like someone spent the day lighting matches. The sun glared through the window of their shared room. Reminding Steve of what the day would bring. Heat, smoke, and fireworks.  
That’s right. Fireworks.  
Oh yes, it was the Fourth of July, Steve’s birthday and the day he dreaded the most. He groaned again as his feet hit the floor, hoping to find it cold, he was disappointed to find it overly warm. He padded over to the shared closet and pulled out a light blue tank top and a pair of shorts. Probably khaki shorts because Steve’s a stickler to the old man stereotype.  
When he opened the door that led out into the Avengers Tower, JARVIS spoke up.  
“Good morning Captain, I have the usual, brewing today.”  
JARVIS was of course referring to the Italian coffee that Steve has flown in every month. Steve nodded in understanding. His mind slowed by lack of caffeine and a heavy sense of dread.  
“Also, Captain, Mr. Stark asked me to give you a message,” there was the distinct crackle of a recording starting and the noise of a party horn,  
“Happy birthday Capsicle, hopefully you don’t get cold feet and are able to attend the party in your honor tonight. I left you a present on the table.”  
A palm was on Steve’s face at mention of his hated nickname, it slid down his face at the mention of a present. Letting out a quick huff of breath, Steve thanked JARVIS and continued down the hall to the main foyer. Thankful for once that Tony had given Bucky and him their own floor. He sat on the edge of a bar stool located by the kitchen island, and sipped at his coffee. This attempt to prolong his inevitable fate proved futile when Sam barged in.  
“Yo! birthday boy, who's ready for some pancakes?” At the mention of food, Bucky’s voice flooded through the hall,  
“Save some for me Wilson.”  
“You got it Barnes.”  
Steve sighed loudly while putting his used cup into the sink.  
“I think I’m going to go on a run before breakfast,” Sam visibly stiffens before nodding,  
“Okay big guy, gimme a sec and I’ll join you.”  
“No, no that won’t be… I think I need to go alone.”  
Sam had been working with both Steve and Bucky about vocalizing their feelings. Being trapped in a place for seventy plus years can do some serious damage to one’s psyche. Plus they both came from a time where men didn’t vocalize their feelings, for fear of being seen as weak. While Steve was never particularly bothered by this, he never voiced his pain so he wouldn’t worry his mother.  
Sam nodded again, this time a little more solem.  
“Alright ‘All-America’ but if you need somethin’ just call.” Sam smiled and clapped a hand on the other’s shoulder.  
“I will Big Bird, you can count on it.” Steve gave a strained smile.  
What he was doing he had to do alone.


End file.
